Author's Note: I haven't updated in forever, and I apologize! Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'll get the next one out as soon as I can!

doyleangel- aha, yesss, but can't forget that Joe and Jaycee will be around tooo!
chocolatechortle22- awwwwwww! thankssssssss hun! smile x4321483248 and yess, Auntie Joyce does creepy premonitions the best. ;)
ixamxnotxaxnugget- i'm happy that the last update made you happyy, and i hope this one does too! ahhh! and yes, Auntie Joyce is def. gonna be missed, but she's done all that she can really do in this story. :/

Song Recommendation- Forever And Always (Taylor Swift Cover)- A Rocket To The Moon

I'm Not One For Love Songs

With my mind set and focused, I walked back to the main desk and approached May, “Do you know yet when Gabe is going to be able to come home?” I asked curiously.

“Thirty minutes top hun. I just got back most of his test results that we were still doing and although he’s not in awesome shape, I’m sure he’d rather being healing somewhere more comfortable than this bland place,” she chuckled.

“So we’re just gonna need to sign him out and get him a wheel chair?” I questioned.

“And don’t forget- he’s going to need warm clothes. For the next few weeks, about 3 weeks I’d say, he needs to stay very warm and not catch any sickness, including the common cold. It could be very dangerous to his healing lungs,” she reminded me, stressing the importance of this matter.

“Alright, I understand. What paper work am I going to have to fill out for that at home nursing thing?” I asked, preparing myself for a load of paperwork that was going to need my signature.

“Don’t worry about it Natalia, I’ve got that all under control, go get your man and get home,” she told me with a broad smile.

“May, he is not ‘my man’, just a good friend,” I reprimanded her as I turned to go to Gabe’s room.

“Mhmm,” she said with an obvious tone of not believing me. Whatever, I knew we weren’t together, and that’s all that matters. Right? Yeah, I thought so.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for all of the work that was ahead of me. I knew that I was going to have to be the person to take care of him, and I wanted to be that person, it was just that me doing this was saying a lot. Maybe it was saying more than I wanted it to. This is me committing myself to him, maybe not necessarily in a relationship, but in some way. This was a big decision that I had just dived head first into. And at that moment I stared at the walls, walking to his room to see if he was awake, to inform him of the new plan and wondering how exactly this would turn out and how he would react.

But you know what? Too bad, he would have to deal with it if he doesn’t like the decisions that I’ve made. He’s getting my assistance, whether he wants it or not, because he needs it.

Once I finally reached his room I opened the door cautiously and peaked in, checking to see if he was awake. His eyes were wide open and he was staring up at the ceiling blankly, deep in thought.

When his eyes snapped to mine quickly, I entered the room completely and stood at the end of his bed awkwardly. I gave him a nervous wave, as he still stared at me unwaveringly.

What if he was mad at me? I had never stopped and wondered if maybe he blamed me for the accident. I mean, I am the one who told him that he needed to go out. I pretty much forced him to go hang out with the guys. I have been trying to squelch the guilt all day long, but right now, staring into his eyes, looking at how injured he seemed, I couldn’t keep it all from surfacing. He wouldn’t have gotten into that accident if it wasn’t for me.

“Hey,” he said hoarsely.

I couldn’t speak.

I could barely breathe.

The guilt was suddenly overwhelming me.

And then I felt the tears.

And then I felt more guilt.

I felt more guilt because I didn’t deserve to be teary-eyed. I am not the one that is hurt, he is.

Fuck, I’m a horrible, selfish, childish person.

“Come here,” he said quietly, not looking away from me.

I slowly shuffled from the end of the bed to his left side. I couldn’t tear my eyes off of his bruised body. He had stitches on his arm, about 4 inches of them. He had a black eye and the left side of his jam looked bruised. His lip was busted a bit, and he had a few stitches on his chin. His shoulders looked bruised and I could see the cast from his broken right leg, even under the blankets. I didn’t even want to try and picture the apparent humongous scar that went down his left side.

This was all so overwhelming. I didn’t even notice that I was crying until he wiped my tears away. I pulled away quickly, turning around to try and compose myself.

“What’s wrong?” he asked roughly.

All I could get out was a breathy, “I’m sorry.”
“For what baby? What’s wrong?” he asked, a bit panicked.

“This is all my fault,” I said, turning back to him, “it’s all my fault that you’re hurt like this. If it wasn’t for me pushing you to go out, the accident never would have happened. And I understand if you hate me and you never want to see me again, I don’t blame you.”

He just stared at me with wide eyes. That was his reaction. I didn’t know what to do. I resisted my strong urge to bolt from the room. Running wouldn’t do me any good at the moment. Not like it ever does anyways. Wait a second, he’s gonna be living with me now. And I’m gonna have to take care of him. Fuck. I have to inform him of that now. I am going to sound like such a bi-polar bitch. Maybe I can just blame this all on PMS?

Before I could even start my explanation of the game plan, he started to speak, “Natalia, I want you to shut your mouth, look me in the eyes, and listen to me, right this instant,” the anger in his voice made me do just that immediately.

“Now let’s get something straight,” he continued, “I do not hate you, I never could, this is not your fault in any way, I am not angry, the only thing I am right now is sore and in pain. It was called ‘an accident’ for a reason. And lastly, you really need to stop being so fucking paranoid,” he ended with a corner of his mouth lifted just a bit.

I couldn’t help but smile humongously at his little verbal tirade, “I want to hug you so much right now, but I’m kind of scared that I’ll hurt you, so just remind me when you get a bit better, that I owe you a hug.”

“Will do,” he confirmed with a slight nod.

“So do you wanna hear the game plan?” I asked.

“Game plan?” he asked confused.

“Also known as what’s going to have to happen so that you’re not stuck in this hospital for 3-4 weeks,” I translated.

“Oh, alright, explain away my dear,” he smirked slightly.

“Well, I sent Pete to go and get your stuff and bring it to my apartment. Also, he’s giving your landlord some notice that you’re not going to be returning. Ever, that is,” I notified him.

“Then I guess that means I’m living with you..?” he asked excitedly. It made my heart squeal a tiny bit, I’m not going to lie.

“Yeah,” I confirmed, “I set this thing up so that I can be your at home nurse and I’ll be able to work in my apartment to take care of you.”

“I’m liking this game plan,” he nodded with obvious approval.

“Well that’s good, at least I won’t have to drag you home kicking and screaming.”

“Ah, but you see,” he said slyly, “the kicking and screaming thing would be a bit hard to do with the broken leg and damaged lung, ya dig?”

I chuckled a bit and shook my head at him, “Alright, now you’re free to leave, we’re just waiting for your wheelchair, but we have to keep you extremely warm,” reminding him.

“Yeah, they have me all up to date on the whole ‘get sick and you could die’ thing,” he sighed, more annoyed than worried.

As one of male nurses walked in with the wheel chair that we’d be taking for home use I turned to Gabe, “You ready to go?”

“Yes!” he said as loudly as he comfortable could with his raw, soar throat.

The male nurse and I helped his tall, lanky, damaged figure into the wheelchair carefully. We wrapped him up in blankets and I signed him out, waving goodbye to May and being told that she’d have to call and check up on his condition every few days. I couldn’t help but internally feel content as I wheeled him out to the car, making conversation that ended up in the most random subjects.